


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by motherbearof3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby's First Christmas, Bathtub Sex, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Christmas Tree, F/M, Family, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Christmas is approaching and Hermione and Draco both want to make their son's first one special. Also, Hermione is feeling amorous and needs to convince Draco that pregnant sex is safe.Written for the Strictly Dramione Yuletide Magic Fest.





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I chose was my own -- Baby's First Christmas -- but the muse had other ideas once I started writing and this got derailed by a sex-deprived Hermione. 
> 
> Credit for the fabulous art goes to LadyKenz347! I've never had art for my fics before and I may be hooked!
> 
> Also, special thanks to otterlyardent for being my smut consultant!

Hermione finished zipping Luci into his snowsuit and chuckled as she watched her husband struggle with the harness he was buckling around himself.

“He’s only six months old, Malfoy, he’s not going to remember this, you know,” she reminded him.

“And he’s going to remember making cookies, Granger?” the blonde wizard teased his wife.

Just the day before, she had put the baby in a high chair at the kitchen counter while she made festive shaped cookies with her grandmother’s recipe, even going so far as to press his tiny hand down on the cutters so he could “help”. Draco had come upon them, her with flour dusting her curls and colorful sugars and nonpareils on the floor, a house elf in the corner, ears sideways in annoyance at the mess and Luci babbling along with his mother’s off-key renditions of Christmas carols.

“That’s different. It’s cold out there,” she argued.

“I’ll cast a warming charm if he gets cold, love, but it’s Malfoy tradition for father and son to go choose the Christmas tree and cut it down.”

Narcissa Malfoy smiled fondly at her son and nodded.

“Lucius took Draco with us when he was the same age. He found the most beautiful forest of trees. I could hardly choose one from another. He finally had me close my eyes, spin in a circle and point.” She laughed at the memory.

The image of such a relaxed, carefree elder Malfoy would have surprised Hermione a few years ago. But since she and Draco had married and even more since the two of them and their adopted son, Lucius Liam, moved into Malfoy Manor with Narcissa, stories like those had become more frequent. Hermione was more than halfway through a pregnancy neither she nor Draco had ever thought would happen after the torture she endured at the hands of his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange damaged her reproductive system. It was deemed high risk by the healers and while her activity restrictions had been lessened at this point, initially she was permitted to do very little without magic and her husband had threatened to wrap her in a protective bubble charm when she left their flat. He had also tried working from home, but that resulted in nothing but row after row because of his hovering and therefore lack of productive work. It had been Narcissa who made the suggestion that they move into the Manor. She was all alone in the sprawling mansion with Lucius in Azkaban, and told them nothing would make her happier than to have a baby in the house.

The young family took up residence in the wing that Lucius and Narcissa originally resided when they were first married. She told them they could make any changes they desired to the decor and furnishings and slowly they were making it a home; making the older witch hope they would stay on after the new baby was born. Draco all but forbade Hermione to lift anything heavier than the baby unless she used magic -- which led to another row that had her threatening to show her husband exactly _what_ she could do with her wand until her mother in law intervened -- and he had also steadfastly rejected her request to accompany him and Luci on their Christmas tree expedition. Too much walking, he told her. At this point, Hermione had all but given up arguing with him about such things. Privately, she was enjoying being coddled a bit and having Narcissa and the house elves around to help with Luci had been a godsend; especially when they first moved in and she was still so tired and nauseous.

“You’d better get going then, before Luci gets overheated,” Hermione said, standing with the baby in her arms. “Do you want him facing you or looking out?”

The young father was going to carry his son on his chest in a Muggle baby harness to leave his wand hand free.

“Facing me, I think. Then we can chat.” The wizard smiled as Luci reached up to pat his cheeks as Hermione maneuvered his small legs through the openings. “Da, Luci. Say Da,” he coached the baby, who simply blew raspberries and made a mmmmm sound.

“Not, Mum, son. Da. Say Dada.”

Hermione laughed. “The hard consonant sounds are more difficult for babies, Draco. And I don’t think he’s saying Mum. He’s just learning how to make sounds. Aren’t you, love?” She kissed her son’s cheek and got another mmmm sound in response.

Draco raised a blonde eyebrow. “So you say. You’ll be gloating when he says Mum first.”

“Never.” She smiled. “Be good for Daddy, Luci. I wish you’d let me come with you. I’ll bet it’s beautiful with all the snow.”

“Not a chance, Granger.”

He reached out and laid a hand on the gentle swell of her abdomen. She had finally developed a bump that was visible in all her clothes and the wizard touched it frequently, marveling at the changes in her body as the baby inside it grew. His favorite thing was to lay beside her in bed, a hand on her belly, feeling the gentle pokes and movements from within. Hermione would often wake up to find him doing just that and she wondered if he had slept at all. She pouted a little at him, knowing it would elicit a reaction; which it did. His gray eyes darkened, and pulling her close to his side since their son was attached to his chest, captured her lower lip and nipped on it gently and then replaced his teeth with his tongue to soothe the sting.

“I’ll show you everything in the pensieve when we get back.”

“You can show me more than that.” Hermione said huskily.

Initially sex had been off limits as well, but at an appointment the previous month, the healer said there was no risk to the pregnancy at this point and they were free to ‘resume marital relations’. Draco, however, was less confident and had been rebuffing his wife’s advances; making excuses about Luci or work or finding reasons to wait to come to bed until after she could no longer stay awake. The spark of desire she’d seen in his eyes at her pout faded with her statement and he took a half step back, putting space between them.

“We need to go, so we can get back for Luci’s nap,” Draco said. “You and Mother decide where you want the tree. See you in a little while. Say good-bye to Mummy and Grandmother.”

He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek and picked up the baby’s hand to make him wave, before turning on the spot and disapparating the two of them. Hermione blinked away the sting of disappointment at her husband’s reaction and schooled her features before turning to face Narcissa, who had entered the room moments before. But the older woman wasn’t fooled. She knew her son and daughter in law too well. Reaching with an impeccably manicured hand to tuck a curl back into the younger woman’s loose braid, she said softly,

“He’s just afraid, my dear.”

The kind words and look of compassion on the face of the woman who’d become her surrogate mother had the tears she’d blinked away rushing back to the surface.

“I know,” Hermione said.

“Tell one of the elves to listen for Luci tonight and see if you can convince him it’s all right,” Narcissa said. “When I was pregnant with Draco -- “ she stopped, looking uncharacteristically flustered at the memory of being at Hermione’s stage of pregnancy and shagging Lucius silly all over the Manor; much to his amusement; not to mention delight.

The younger witch blushed a little at the thought of her mother in law’s sex life and cleared her throat to change the subject.

“So, where do you normally put the tree?” Hermione asked.

They were standing in the main sitting room, where most of the holiday entertaining would take place for groups of a dozen or less. It had sets of French doors that led both outside and to an adjacent dining room. Narcissa always had a decorated tree in this room, usually following the theme of the Manor’s holiday decor, on which she hadn’t yet decided that year. But she had already decided the tree her son and grandson would bring home that day should go elsewhere. Consummate bookworms, Draco and Hermione both spent a great deal of their free time in the library. Since they moved in, it had become the spot for the family to gather; the couple together on a plush sofa that had been transfigured from the smooth slippery leather one previously in its place. Sometimes they would prop Luci up between them while they read, cushions and a spell to keep him from slumping off; or often he would lie on a colorful blanket on the floor, Draco sitting with his back against the couch, alternating between reading and entertaining his son.

“We’ll put one in here, of course,” Narcissa said, putting a hand on Hermione’s arm and leading her toward the door to the hall. “But I was thinking Draco’s tree should go in here.”

She waved her other hand and the large wooden doors to the library silently opened. A fire was burning in the fireplace as it always was this time of year, adding to the coziness of the room. Another wave of her hand, and furniture slid aside to clear a space in front of the large bay window.

“Right there would be a perfect place, don’t you think?”

Hermione nodded in agreement, pushing Draco’s rejection of her sexual advances to the back of her mind.

As promised, Draco showed his wife the adventure he’d had with their son; putting all the memories into the pensieve so it was like she had actually been with them. She smiled fondly watching her beloved talk to Luci as if the baby could reply. Hermione loved seeing that side of him. Who’d have thought the snarky bully who’d teased her mercilessly their first years at Hogwarts would grow up to be a doting father?

They’d stood the large pine tree with bluish green needles in front of the window in the library as the two witches had agreed before bringing out boxes of decorations. While Luci napped, the couple decorated it while Narcissa worked a needle project. Hermione had introduced her to the Muggle pastime and she was enjoying making things by hand instead of with magic. Draco had no problem letting Hermione decorate the tree since it could all be done comfortably seated on the sofa with her feet in his lap.

“Imagine having to do this by hand,” he said, waving his own wand to hang an ornament on a top most branch. “You’d not be doing it. Climbing a ladder up and down.”

“This is easier,” Hermione admitted, placing one that read Baby’s First Christmas and held a small photo of Luci smiling at something off camera.

“Ready to light it?” Draco asked finally when it seemed every branch and needle was covered in baubles, bows and tinsel.

She put her hand on his arm, lowering his wand.

“Not until Luci is awake. I want him to see it first lit up,” Hermione said. Her other hand went to her abdomen. “His brother or sister agrees.”

Draco quickly moved his free hand to where hers was, feeling the push of a foot or hand beneath his own.

“Hello, little one. All right then, we’ll wait for your brother to wake up,” he said, leaning over to press his lips against the soft fabric of her jumper. The he looked up at his wife. “Are you sure you don’t want to know whether we’re having a boy or a girl?”

Hermione shook her head and looked away, not meeting her husband’s eyes. He insisted he didn’t care one way or the other but she was afraid he did. She was afraid he would be disappointed if the baby was a girl and he didn’t have a biological male heir.

Narcissa discreetly left the room, murmuring about checking on dinner. She and her daughter in law had talked about this and while she assured the younger witch Draco meant what he said, she too, had a niggle of doubt. Malfoy men were a proud lot, and having a male heir to pass down the family name was important. It was a conversation she and Lucius had several times when she was pregnant with Draco, before she was far along enough to know the sex. Having a firstborn son was important to him, but he’d assured her many times that he wouldn’t love a daughter any less. Privately, Narcissa had breathed a sigh of relief when the healer told her the baby she carried was a boy. When they learned she couldn’t have more children, she was even more relieved she had given her husband a son.

“Hermione, every time I ask you that question, you look like you’d rather be riding a broom.” He took a finger and turned her head back so he could look into her brown eyes, currently darkened with concern. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I’m afraid if this baby is a girl you’ll be disappointed you won’t have a male heir that’s Malfoy blood!” she blurted, feeling a weight lift off her as she said the words. She hadn’t realized how much it was bothering her; not discussing it.

She watched as Draco’s eyes swirled with shades of grey, like the clouds in the December sky outside. He pressed his lips together then gently moved her feet from his lap, stood up and quickly left the room. Hermione’s lips began to tremble and she hugged both arms around her belly, rocking back and forth. _Merlin’s beard! What had she done? She should have just kept her mouth shut. Where had he gone? Had he left the Manor? Left her?_ She was just about to get up and go look for him when he re-entered the library carrying Luci. The baby looked sleepy, as if his father had just plucked him out of his cot. Draco sat down beside her again and she looked him, eyes wide.

“Granger, you silly witch,” he said, turning Luci to sit on his lap facing her.

“ _This_ ,” he kissed the dark hair on top of the baby’s head, which had begun to curl, making him look even more like Hermione’s biological child, “is my heir.

“Luci is my firstborn son, whether he was conceived and grew inside you like that one is or not.” He pointed at her rounded abdomen, around which she still had her arms curled.  “Nothing will ever change that. Not if you give birth to one son or ten.

“I don’t care whether that baby is a boy or a girl. Frankly, I think I’d like a little princess to spoil rotten. You have no idea how many tiara’s there are in the Malfoy vaults.” Draco grinned at her, and she began to relax a little.

“You don’t care?” Hermione asked quietly. “I thought the Malfoy bloodline and all…..” She held her hands out, palms up.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the almighty Malfoy bloodline, love.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow that he knew meant _Language, Malfoy_ because she had been on him to not swear around Luci and that just made him grin more.

But then his face grew serious.

“I thought you knew that.”

Her heart did. He had told her over and over again from the time they started dating, up to and including their wedding day, when he whispered at the altar she had his permission to hex any of his relatives who looked askance at her because of her blood status. It was her brain -- the very thing that drew her to him in the first place -- that kept trying to convince her otherwise.

Leaving one hand on Luci to keep him on his lap, he reached out, took one of hers and raised it up to kiss the inside of her wrist. She placed her palm against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble of his five o’clock shadow, even though it was so light she could barely see it.

“I do know,” she said. “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s Baby Brain. Ginny used to say the bigger she got, the stupider she got.”

Before he could reply, Luci blew loud raspberries, ending the seriousness of the moment and making both of them laugh.

Hermione had taken Narcissa’s advice to heart and that evening after Luci was bathed and tucked into his cot with his favorite blanket, the ceiling of his nursery twinkling with the same stars as above the Manor, she summoned one of the house elves and asked him to listen for the baby until further notice. Draco overheard and followed her into their bedroom, watching her switch off the receiver on the baby monitor. He couldn’t remember a night since they’d moved in with his mother that his wife hadn’t had the Muggle device on to hear Luci’s cries overnight.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

He trailed after her into their en suite. Even the bathrooms in Malfoy Manor were decorated for the season, with live pine bough garland woven with ribbons draped above the large mirror over the double-bowl vanity. The room was actually as big as the bedroom itself, with both a walk in shower the size of the powder room in their old flat and a tub that could hold six adults easily. However, at the moment, Hermione had plans for just two. She turned on the taps and moved to choose a jar of foaming bath salts from the shelf. It was the scent she knew her husband liked the best. He’d created it for her himself, explaining it was what Amorentia smelled like to him the year they’d had Professor Slughorn for potions at Hogwarts. At the time, he’d not realized it was what he associated with her, but had secretly bottled some after class and smelling it was one of the things that helped him get through the war; knowing there was a witch out there somewhere waiting for him. To her it was a soft, flowery scent with hints of citrus. What Draco smelled also included an underlying scent of quill ink, which he finally realized he associated with the omnipresent smudges on her fingers during school and the musky smell of old books from the library.

“I fancy a soak tonight and don’t want to have to be jumping out if he fusses. But you can turn it back on and tend to him if you want.”

Hermione poured a generous amount into the running water, watching the foam begin. She returned the jar to its place and began to pin her hair up on her head, deliberately letting a few curls escape at the nape of her neck, catching his eyes in the mirror. She’d been blatant in her previous attempts to get Draco to make love to her so tonight she was going with subtlety. He stood in the doorway and returned her gaze. How had he gotten so lucky to find a witch who was beautiful and smart?

“No, he’ll be fine. We can both have a night off. The elves love fawning over him. You have your soak. I think I’ll read a bit,” he replied.

She pulled her jumper off over her head, revealing the lacy bra she wore beneath.

“Okay.”

Her back was still to him as she stood facing the mirror, but he could see her breasts in the reflection, even fuller now as she approached late pregnancy and threatening to spill out of their confines. She bent over as much as she could to push down the stretchy leggings she favored of late, and his gaze moved to her rounded bum encased in the same lace as her bra. As her body had expanded Hermione declared she wasn’t going to wear “pants the size of Hagrid’s” just so they could fit over her belly. Draco sent her shopping with Pansy and both witches came home with dozens of sets of new bikini style undergarments and matching brassieres. Hermione could feel his eyes on her body and she finished stepping out of the leggings. Then she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms. She heard him shift restlessly when it fell from her breasts, revealing dusky nipples, already taut from the things she’d been thinking about wanting her husband to do.

Draco’s body responded favorably as his wife undressed before him. They hadn’t made love since before they learned she was pregnant and he was becoming tired of his own hand in the shower. But although the healer told them it was safe for them to have sex, he didn’t want to do anything to risk harming the baby or Hermione; or, Merlin forbid, trigger early labor. At one of their appointments they had taken a tour of the natal unit at St. Mungo’s and they’d seen one baby, born nearly two months early. The infant was surrounded by monitoring spells and could have been held in one hand. That was the last thing he wanted for their child. He crossed to stand behind her, once again meeting her gaze in the mirror and she thought she had made progress when he put his hands on her shoulders and ran them down her arms, eliciting goosebumps and making her nipples harden even more. Then he bent his head and kissed her shoulder.

“Enjoy your soak, love.”

He turned and left the bathroom, leaving her standing there feeling rejected once again and wondering when he had become his own cock block. Hermione yanked off her panties and tossed them angrily into the hamper. Twisting the taps off with more vigor than was necessary, she carefully climbed into the tub, mindful of her imbalanced body, and sank down into the water which was at the perfect temperature. Sometimes magic really was amazing, she thought. Then her thoughts shifted back to her husband. When he’d stood behind her, she could feel his arousal barely brushing against her bum. If she had moved a hairsbreadth back…… Stifling a soft moan, she ran her hands over her breasts, skin made slippery from the bath salts. They were just tender enough that they ached to be touched; and her own hands weren’t large enough to be satisfying.

In the bedroom, Draco threw himself into one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of the fireplace. Legs manspread, he reached and adjusted himself, his palm lingering a little over his zipper. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Hermione’s smaller hand around his hard length. That only served to send more blood to the region, making his trousers uncomfortably tight. He toed off his shoes and had just reached for his belt -- _did he have time for a quick wank, thinking about her wet and naked?_ \-- when he heard his wife’s voice from the other room.

“Draco?”

“Are you okay?”

She repressed a sigh. She loved the wizard, she really did. But he needed to stop assuming there was something wrong every time she called his name. Merlin help her when she went into labor.

“Fine, darling. But I -- “ she searched for an innocent reason to get him to return to the bathroom. “I forgot to get a washcloth from the cupboard. Could you get me one? Please?”

“Uh, sure.”

She heard the creak of an armchair and the clink of his belt. _Was he going to come into the bathroom undressed?_ Her breath quickened at the thought. It had been awhile since she had seen Draco completely naked and aroused. She’d felt his hard length against her in the mornings, but when she’d wiggle her bottom against it, he’d roll out of bed and head for the shower where she was sure he was taking things into his own hands.

When her husband appeared in the doorway, his trousers and shirt were off, but to her disappointment he wore a dressing gown. Even though it was firmly tied closed at his waist, she could see his arousal pushing against the fabric. He opened a nearby cupboard and removed a washcloth, coming to the side of the tub.

“You know you could have just summoned it,” he said, extending his hand. The lighting had been dimmed and a dozen candles flickered around the room, creating a soft glow. It made the witch in the bath even more beautiful, Draco thought, if that was possible.

Hermione shrugged and sat a little higher in the tub, so the foam slid down her breasts and dripped off the rounded peaks, leaving small bits just covering her nipples. She took hold of the fabric and tugged hard before he could let go, making him stumble toward her and the tub. Draco put out his out hand to catch himself, but distracted by the scent of the bath salts, the bubbles on her breasts and her curls that had formed individual ringlets from the steam, missed the edge of the marble pool and ended up plunging his arm into the water, soaking his sleeve to the elbow.

“Oh, no,” she said, eyes round with faux innocent surprise. “You’ve gotten your dressing gown wet.”

She found his hand under the water and guided it to cup one of her breasts. Draco’s hand instinctively kneaded the soft flesh, his thumb moving across her nipple, making Hermione whimper with pleasure. She dropped the washcloth and worked her other hand between the overlapped sides of the dressing gown so she could wrap her hand around his hard length, giving it a light squeeze, eliciting a small groan from him. Draco removed his hand from her breast and straightened, taking a step back pulling her hand away from his hot flesh and she closed her eyes in disappointment. A moment later they opened when she felt the water move as he got in the tub opposite her and moved to kneel between her legs.

“Sneaky witch,” he said, before taking her head in his hands and kissing her. She opened her lips to his plundering tongue and couldn’t hold back the moan of pleasure. It had been far too long since her husband kissed her like this.

Hermione slid her hands around his muscular shoulders and pulled him as close as her rounded belly would permit. She could feel his erection against her leg and yearned to have him inside her. Pulling her mouth from his and catching her breath, she moved her lips to his ear, giving it a gently nip. Then she whispered,

“Make love to me, Draco.”

He pulled back and rested on his heels, running his hands through his blond strands, making them sexily damp and disheveled and looked at his wife, lips swollen from his kisses and face flushed with want.

“Hermione --”

“Listen, Malfoy,” she began, her voice stern. Then she stopped, seeing the true concern in his eyes. Hermione reached out and placed her palm on his chest and spoke again, her tone and eyes softening.

“Draco, my love. I want this baby more than anything in the world. You know that. But I also want my husband, and Healer Krivinko said there is no reason why we can’t make love.”

She slowly moved her hand down over his well muscled abdomen and below the water to his erection, which hadn’t flagged, telling her he wanted this as much as she did. He just needed to believe it was safe for the baby. He closed his eyes briefly when she closed her hand around him, opening them again to gaze into hers. She took his hand and placed it on her rounded belly.

“I haven’t even had any Braxton Hicks contractions yet, so I’m confident your little witch or wizard is content to stay there for the duration until it’s time.”

“I want -- “ Draco began.

“Then do,” she interrupted, putting fingers to his lips. “Don’t think, just do.”

Hermione watched as his eyes cleared of fear and nerves, the misty-grey colour deepening from lust as he accepted her assurances that she would be alright. He took her hand and tugged her forward moving them both to sit on a bench at the opposite end of their large tub, where the water was deeper. She settled onto his lap, legs straddling his and the tip of his weeping cock nudged her folds - he found that she was already slick and dripping with need. They wouldn’t need the water’s assistance - his wife was more than ready for him. He tried to lift her up to align their bodies and found that he couldn’t. Her glorious bump was in the way. She groaned in frustration, making Draco chuckle.

“Any brilliant ideas, Granger?”

He reached a hand between their bodies and slipped a finger inside her. She shivered with delight and clenched her muscles around his long, tapered digit. It had been far, far too long, she thought. Hermione bit down her lower lip and met his hungry gaze, fighting to stave off her rapidly building orgasm from the sheer pleasure his finger masterfully gave her. Her attentive husband pumped in and out of her tight, wet heat at a steady pace before he added a second digit and curled both deep within her, working her g-spot with expert dexterity the left her nearly brainless.

“Granger?” Draco purred against her pulse point, before placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck.

“Sorry, I just -- Merlin that feels so good!”

Her head fell back and he lowered his own and kissed his way down to her supple, heaving breasts. Hermione’s tits had always been perfect, but they were now made larger from pregnancy and much, much more sensitive - which Draco took full advantage of, nipping at her shamefully neglected dusty-rose coloured nipples before pulling a taught, hardened bud into his mouth and sucking greedily. Her breathy little moans were enough to drive him mad with desire for his witch, his wife, his absolute everything.

“Well it’ll feel even better if you come up with a different position, love.” He murmured against her neck and moved his thumb in deliberately slow circles, caressing her throbbing clit and making her gasp.

“Wait, wait,” she panted. “Let me think. Okay, there was this book I read that had a chapter about sex during pregnancy, and oh God, Draco, stop. I want to come with you inside me.”

Hermione pushed against his chest and slid off his lap - standing to face him in the tub. He watched her try and focus her thoughts, fighting his own distraction as his eyes tracked the rivulets of water and foamy suds as they slid down her skin, glistening in the candlelight.

“All right, there was one the book said was called Reverse Dragon Rider,” she told him, watching his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Really?” he drawled, running a finger to follow a rivulet from her collarbone down to the tip of one breast.

“Yes.” Hermione murmured almost bashfully, as blood pooled in her cheeks before the hot blush spread down her neck to her heavy breasts.

“Well, then climb on, sweetheart. Your dragon is ready, willing and able.”

The slow smirk that played upon Draco’s lips was full of sin and promise. She had missed that look on his face. He took her by the hand and spun her in the water so she was facing away from him. Then he grasped her hips and lifted her up, while Hermione braced herself with a hand on either side of the tub. She felt him move one hand to hold himself in place at her entrance and she lowered herself into him, sighing at the sensation of finally being filled by her love after so many months. His louder sigh, followed by a groan assured her he felt the same way. Hermione felt him magically lower the marble bench he sat upon until her feet were flat on the floor of the tub, allowing her to lift her body and sink back down upon him, seating him even more fully inside her. He slid his hands up her sides to cup her breasts and gently pinch each nipple that had been feeling neglected after his mouth’s previous ministrations.

What began as languid movements morphed into more vigorous ones as the couple found a rhythm in their new found position. Water splashed over the side of the tub and Hermione’s tits bounced as she rode her dragon higher and higher to the heights of pleasure, finally collapsing back against his chest, limp. After a moment or two to catch her breath, Hermione realized Draco was far from limp. In fact, he was still hard as ever, sheathed in her heated core. She wiggled her hips and looked over her shoulder, seeing in his eyes he was holding on with a tenuous fibre of control. Her heart exploded with emotion. He had let her seek her pleasure first.

“I love you,” she said. “But now it’s your turn my darling.”

She pushed to her feet and leaned forward to brace her forearms on the marble side of the basin, arching her back and presenting herself to her husband, who lunged forward and drove himself home again where she was still slick from her orgasm, groaning as she clenched her muscles around him. Draco’s hips pistoned and again water splashed over the sides as he chased his own release. His hand snaked around one of her hips for her already over sensitized hooded button between her folds.

“Come again with me,” he growled in her ear, biting down on her neck. His fingertip played a symphony on her clit, pushing her into another orgasm as he gave a final, groaning thrust and emptied himself into her.

Hermione and Draco were both grateful later for water that stayed magically warm and cushioning charms that made marble feel like a feather bed because they stayed in the tub recovering from their lovemaking until their fingers and toes were pruny and she was nearly asleep. Finally, he set the water to drain, and drew her out, gently drying her body with a warm, fluffy towel, paying extra attention to her rounded abdomen; even dropping a gentle kiss on it. Wrapping her in his discarded dressing gown, Draco then quickly toweled off and led her into the bedroom, oblivious of his own nudity. House elves must have been in the room at some point, for now the bed was turned down and the fireplace stoked. Hermione was too sleepy and sated to be embarrassed at the thought they might have heard them in the tub. He found a nightgown in her drawer and pulled it over her head before donning a pair of pyjama pants himself. She was asleep minutes after her head hit the pillow, spooned against her husband’s chest. Draco spent a couple minutes drowsily feeling their child move gently, adjusting itself into a position for sleep, before kissing his wife’s damp curls and drifting off himself.

Hermione woke gradually in the morning, eyes lighting on the decorated tree in the corner of their room which hadn’t been there the night before. Did house elves sleep? she wondered, before stretching and rolling over to look at bed beside her. It was empty and the sheets were cold. Draco clearly been up for a while. Before she could push the blankets back and shift her growing bulk from the mattress to the floor, the bedroom door swung open.

“Tell Mummy good morning, Luci,” Draco prompted, walking in with the baby on his shoulders.

“He’s too small for that!” Hermione gasped. “Put him down.”

“I’ve hold of him, Granger. Calm down.”

He did, indeed have both hands firmly around the child’s torso, but he obediently lifted him down and put him on the bed. Luci pushed to his hands and knees and rocked back and forth, a proud smile on his face that revealed one pearly tooth just broken through his gum.

“When did you learn that!” his mother exclaimed. “He’s trying to crawl.” She picked him up and pressed kisses to his chubby cheeks. As much as she had enjoyed her shared bath, lovemaking and uninterrupted sleep, she also missed not seeing their son in nearly 12 hours.

“And look! His tooth has come in!”

“Mother said he was extra fussy last night, so that’s probably when it happened,” Draco told her, joining them on the bed.

Hermione looked distressed at the thought of not having been there to comfort their son.

“Love, he has dozens more teeth that will come in.” The wizard put an arm around her and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then one on top of his son’s head. “You’ll have plenty more nights to be kept up by him and our little princess there.” Now his hand caressed her belly through the flannel of her nightgown.

Hermione snuggled against him, with Luci between them and a hand on her rounded abdomen, the baby playing with the belt on his father’s dressing gown. Then Draco spoke again.

“Christmas is next week. You haven’t told me what you want.”

The Christmas she’d spent with Harry, on the run from Voldemort and hunting horcruxes after Ron had left them, was the worst she’d ever had and every one since she’d thought couldn’t get better, especially after she married the wizard beside her. But this year, with one child and another soon to be born, she didn’t think there was anything else she could possibly want. She looked down at Luci, then up at her husband, pressing a kiss to his stubbly cheek.

“Not a single thing. I have everything I could want and more.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading about our favorite couple in this little holiday snippet, please check out my WIP that this was spun off of called More Than Once In A Lifetime. In it, Hermione and Draco play cupid to pair up a widowed Harry Potter with Pansy Parkinson. That story will tell you more about how they came to adopt little Lucius and there's a hilarious chapter early on (at least I think it is) when we learn that Draco has a penchant for Muggle games and all the friends play Cards Against Humanity.


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